


Shopping Day

by alleyoops, jennandanica



Series: What Remains [4]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, British Actor RPF, The Walking Dead (TV), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M, Walking Dead AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 04:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10937454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alleyoops/pseuds/alleyoops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: After the zombie apocalypse, survivors roam the UK, trying to find their families, other survivors they can trust and somewhere safe where they can actually allow hope for a future to flourish. In this chapter, the two groups hole up in a small town waiting for Alex's leg to heal.Ryan snags some heavy china mugs from one of the overhead cabinets and lies them up next to the coffee press. "How safe do you think it is here?" he asks Antony, figuring he's likely to give him a no-bullshit assessment.





	Shopping Day

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone familiar with the [RPG Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read), this is NOT backstory for any of our pups in the game. Also, we apologize in advance for any discrepancies regarding weapons and UK geography and slang/terminology. We did our best but I'm sure we've mucked up something.

Waking up slowly, warm and comfortable and safe, is a bizarre sensation. Ryan's still drowsy, still hazy, when his brain clicks into gear. He smiles to realize the weight half-sprawled on top of him is Sam, his breathing steady and reassuring and _alive_. Fuck knows what this thing is they started between them – if it even qualifies as a thing at all, or whether it was just some satisfying chance of time and circumstance – but he wouldn't mind getting used to waking this way.

Trying to keep silent he slips out of bed and grabs for his clothes spread on the floor. Slowly turns the doorknob in hopes it won't squeak, and lightly pads barefoot down the stairs. Damn, he's got to piss, got to piss, can't recall whether anyone set down a rule for the house about going outside, and fuck there's Alex to check on and please please please don't let him be sick–

 _Fuck!_ Ryan abruptly stops short and falls into a fighter's crouch, wildly searching for a weapon, any weapon – when his backbrain recognizes the looming shape in the shadowed kitchen as Antony. "Oh, christ," he mutters in relief, and damn near collapses.

"Morning," Antony says, glancing over his shoulder. A small smile curving his lips. "Want some oatmeal? There's coffee too."

Ryan scrubs a hand over his eyes, firmly ordering himself to get his mental shit together. "Yeah," he answers, "please." He crosses the small kitchen to a window overlooking the back garden they entered through yesterday, and twitches the curtain aside just barely enough for a quick survey. "Safe to go out, you reckon?" he asks softly, gripping his knife.

"For what?" Antony asks. "If you need to piss, you can use the washroom. The water's still working down here, it's just not suitable for drinking. You shouldn't flush anyways for number one." He gives the oats another stir. "This'll be ready in a minute."

The water isn't suitable for drinking or for washing either, but... All right, it's a fair point. When Ryan returns to the kitchen he starts looking through the various soaps and cleansers Luke found during the crisis with Alex, and automatically begins to sort them by the effectiveness of their ingredients. Well, his best guess at this point anyway. "Did you get some decent sleep?"

Antony nods. "A couple hours. You?" He fills two bowls with oatmeal, setting them and spoons on the table along with some milk – powdered, of course – and brown sugar. He knows exactly who slept where last night but it's not any of his business and really, he could care less.

"Yeah, actually. My best sleep in... fuck knows how long." Ryan snags some heavy china mugs from one of the overhead cabinets and lies them up next to the coffee press. "How safe do you think it is here?" he asks Antony, figuring he's likely to give him a no-bullshit assessment. "Relatively?"

"Given how long this place has been sitting here, undisturbed..." Antony says, taking a seat. "As long as we're quiet, keep the windows covered, I think we're good for a few days."

It sounds good enough for Ryan. He's seen more than enough evidence of Antony's strategic skills to trust his opinion on this. "And you're okay with that? Sitting still for a bit?"

"It's not ideal," Antony admits, pouring some milk on his oatmeal. "But if Alex needs the time to heal then we stay here. Speaking of which, I was going to do a supply run this morning. There's a couple pharmacies in town if you want me to look for specific medications." He doesn't know what the story is, but it's obvious Ryan knew what he was doing with Alex, so he's going to assume he can give him the names.

"Yeah?" Ryan brightens, and actually smiles as he pours boiling water over the coffee grounds. "I'll write you up a shopping list." Setting the mugs on the table, he takes his seat opposite and digs in. "I'm thinking today I'll look around this place and set up some preliminary defenses, early warning systems and that. Anything specific you want me to cover?"

Antony sits back. "I wouldn't risk nailing anything over the windows. You can move furniture in front of the doors and windows if you can do it quietly enough, but there's walkers out front. If anyone needs to go out, they do it through the backyard and they make sure nothing sees them coming or going."

Ryan nods. "All right." He stirs his oatmeal and sighs blissfully at the first sweet taste of brown sugar. "Does Sam drink coffee, do you know?"

Antony bites back a smile and nods. "He takes it black."

"That's good. I'm glad to know he won't be holding out for fresh cream or the like," Ryan chuckles. He inhales his breakfast, eating faster than he likely should, he knows. He's dying to ask Antony a bunch of personal questions, to get some better idea of the man and his history, but he's got a feeling that he won't be very forthcoming. In which case, perhaps it's better to simply not ask in the first place. Getting up, he sets his dishes in the sink, thinking to wash them later, and searches through the kitchen drawers for a pen. "I'm going to give you some suffixes," he explains, scrawling on the back of an envelope postmarked some seven months ago. "Rather than trying to think of all the possible medication names you might run across, this way you can just check the prescription label, and if it ends in these last four letters, then grab it."

Antony nods. "Someone will have cleared out most of the painkillers and anything they can get high on, but we might get lucky."

"Yeah. I was surprised to see any of those in your magic bag, yesterday," Ryan agrees ruefully. "But the few there were should get Alex through the next couple days." Assuming, of course, that Alex is going to get through them. "Here you go," he says, laying the envelope next to Antony's bowl. "I put soap on there, too. Plus do us a favor and grab anything you see that's at least 70% alcohol. I'd love it if we could somehow keep the lot of us from contracting cholera."

"I'll see if I can find some electrolyte packets too," Antony says. "Just in case." He takes a sip of his coffee. "You want to ask Sam if he's going with me?"

Ryan meets Antony's eyes, curious. "Why don't you want to ask him?"

"I just figured you were taking coffee up to him," Antony says, unable to hide the smile this time.

"Well, yeah, but..." Ryan is shocked to feel his cheeks flush hot. He rubs a hand over the nape of his neck, trying to grasp at his composure. "Yeah. I'll ask him. Do you need anyone else?"

Antony shakes his head. "Keira can stay here and help you. Luke'll be busy with Alex. I think the fewer of us that go out, the better." He stares at Ryan for a moment. "Did Sam tell you about Auskerry?" He's assuming so.

Leaning back in his chair, Ryan nods. "Yeah, he talked about it. Is that going to be a problem? That he told me?"

"Not at all," Antony says. He's actually hoping they might still find a few others to join them. They need the numbers and given the way the guys are all humping each other, they definitely need a couple more women. Or they'll be doomed no matter where they end up. "But if something happens to us and you still wanted to try and go there, you should have some directions. Luke said you have a map?"

"Yeah." Ryan's a bit surprised, but it's a hell of a reasonable suggestion. "I'll get it for you before you leave." He swallows around a lump in his throat. "Thanks for... for all this."

"I'm just doing what I can," Antony says, shaking his head.

Ryan nods, acknowledging the statement as well as the manner in which it's delivered. "I'll try not to mention it again," he says, his eyes dancing. "I'll just go deliver Sam's coffee now."

"Okay. Tell him I don't want to leave too late," Antony says, sipping at his own mug.

Back upstairs, Ryan softly closes the bedroom door, then sets the mug of coffee on the nightstand. "Sam?" he whispers, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but otherwise keeping well out of reach.

Sam stirs, slowly opening his eyes. Smiles when he sees Ryan. "Hey."

"Hey. Good morning, starshine." Damn, that smile is contagious. Ryan sits down next to Sam on the bed and reaches out to brush a lock of hair off his forehead. "Do you always wake up so cheerful?"

Sam laughs, rolling onto his back. "Hardly. I had a good night's sleep. First since all of this started."

"That's amazing," Ryan murmurs, and then confesses, "I'm doing my best not to crawl back in there with you right now." He holds out the mug. "Antony said you take it black."

"Thanks." Sam sits up, back against the headboard. Takes the mug from Ryan. "You _should_ crawl back in with me," he says, throwing back part of the covers. "It's not like we're going anywhere today, are we?"

"Right. The other thing he said is don't be late," Ryan adds, and hell – he gives in and sits down next to Sam, although he does hedge his bets by sitting on top of the blankets rather than slipping under them. "He needs you to make a run with him today. Keira and I will work on fortifications here, and I think I'm going to put Alex to work. Under Luke's supervision."

Fuck. There's a weird part of Sam that just wants to stay the hell here. They're safe, they're warm, there's food and water. He's so fucking tired of fighting. But that's not really an option and he knows it so he just nods and takes a drink of his coffee. "Sounds good. How about you? How did you sleep?"

Ryan ducks his head but can't hide his smile. "Yeah, I slept great," he says. "I might have to try that method again tonight. Make sure it wasn't just a fluke."

Sam grins. Beams really. "Do I get a good morning kiss?"

"Hmm..." Ryan pretends to think it over, for all of a second. Then he leans in, one hand going to press against Sam's nape as he licks into his mouth. After a moment, he pulls back. Not very far, though. "Antony knows we slept together. Is that okay with you?"

Sam nods. "He might give us some grief, but I don't mind. I don't like the idea of hiding and I plan on sleeping with you again, so..." he smiles and leans in, giving Ryan another kiss. "Are you okay with it?"

Something about that _I plan_ – maybe the way it's just so matter-of-fact how Sam says it. Ryan huffs a laugh like it's no big thing, but his gut knots with lust. "Yeah. I'm good with that."

"Great." Sam grins and presses his mouth to Ryan's once more before drawing back. "What are we getting?" he asks, turning his attention to his coffee. "Meds?"

"Yeah. And soap, sports drinks," Ryan nods. "Oh! Plus sterile gauze. And more dental floss, no wax. It'd be amazing if you could find any of those things." He hates to invite trouble, but even worse is the thought that they might have to face another injury unprepared.

Sam nods. "We'll grab whatever we can." Whatever's left. He downs the rest of his coffee. "Want to hand me my clothes?"

"Not really." Ryan does so anyway, gathering pieces of clothing from the floor and passing the bundle to Sam. But... Good intentions be damned. He wraps his arms around Sam and kisses him hard, hungry for what they felt together yesterday.

Sam kisses back, matching passion with passion, the clothes dropped on the bed as he pulls Ryan in tight, body reacting instantly, eagerly.

"Oh, fuck," Ryan breathes, and pulls Sam down with him. "I don't think Antony meant, like, _now_ , anyway," he says, dragging his shirt back off. "He probably meant, like, _soon_."

"Is that so?" Sam grins, pushing Ryan down, onto his back and moving to straddle him. "Does that mean I can have my way with you?" he asks between kisses, shifting from mouth to throat to collarbone, working his way lower and lower.

"Um... yeah." Ryan fights to think when it suddenly feels like his brain is wrapped in a thick haze. "Just so long as you don't make him late." There: responsibility discharged, and now he can focus all his senses on being sensuously overwhelmed.

Flicking his tongue over an already hardened nipple, Sam lets his teeth dig in a little, testing Ryan's reaction.

Ryan gasps, arching beneath Sam in response. He splays his fingers over his shoulders, not to push him away but to keep him close.

There. That's the reaction Sam was looking for. He bites a little harder, sucking and soothing each nipple in turn before moving still lower, one hand dropping to tug Ryan's jeans open.

With a moan of pleasure (although he does try to keep it on the quiet side), Ryan pushes into his hand. Needy and impatient and with some clock ticking away in the back of his mind warning that this might be their last chance.

Sam works Ryan's cock through the denim, making his own sounds of pleasure as he bites at his belly, his hips, sucking blood to the surface where no one else will see it. And then he's nuzzling into Ryan's zipper, nosing his cock from his jeans, tongue flicking out to tease and torment.

With his eyes rolling back in his head, Ryan curls his fingers into Sam's hair. His other hand fists in the blankets, as if that will somehow anchor him during the onslaught. "Sam..." 

"You want me to stop?" Sam asks, lifting his head, deliberately misunderstanding.

"What?" Ryan stares in a mix of surprise and horror. "No! Don't fucking stop!"

Sam's grin widens and he swipes his tongue over the tip of Ryan's cock, his gaze locked with the other man's before he swallows him down, holding back no longer.

Christ, Ryan had been starting to worry Sam would make him beg... This is _much_ better. He groans under his breath and rocks his hips very slightly, giving himself up to the pull of Sam's skilled mouth. "Close," he whispers.

Sam only nods and redoubles his efforts, almost choking himself as he presses his nose to Ryan's groin again and again.

Colored lights flash behind Ryan's eyes and he loses himself, pummeled by the tidal wave of his climax. At some point he quits pulling Sam's hair and starts petting it instead, but he hardly notices.

Satisfied he has every last drop, Sam pulls off and grins up at Ryan. "You owe me when I get back," he says, eyes sparkling.

"When you–? You're leaving?" Ryan is melting into the bed. Sam wants to leave now?

Sam pushes up onto his hands and crawls up Ryan's body. Kisses him thoroughly. "I'd better not keep Antony waiting, and this way I have something," _someone_ , "to come back to."

"Yeah, you'd better." Bleary and incredibly relaxed, Ryan decides maybe he'll catch a bit more sleep.

"I will," Sam promises, kissing Ryan once more before getting dressed. "Want me to check in on Alex?" he asks, once his clothes are on, but sure enough, Ryan's fast asleep and he wouldn't wake him for anything in the world. Just covers him up and brushes his lips across his temple before slipping out of the bedroom.

* * *

Downstairs, Sam says a quick good morning to Antony, ignoring the slight smile on the other man's lips. _Fuck you. You're just jealous._ "I'm gonna check on Alex and then we can go," he tells him, moving quietly down the hallway to the master bedroom where he eases the door open and peeks in, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darkness.

Luke stirs immediately, head lifted from his pillow. "Everything okay?" he asks, when he recognizes Sam.

"I was just about to ask you the same," Sam says, leaning through the doorway. "Ryan's still sleeping, Keira too. Antony and I are going out on a med run but we'll be back later."

"Okay." Luke nods, feeling like he's been hit by a Mack truck.

"How'd he sleep?" Sam asks, nodding at Alex.

"Good. He was up at one point, but I gave him the pills Ryan left and some water and he went back to sleep." Not that Luke had. He'd been awake for hours just listening to Alex breathe.

Sam nods. "Take it easy today," he tells him. "We're not in a rush to go anywhere so get some rest and make sure Alex does too."

"Okay. Thanks," Luke says, laying his head back down, his cheek against Alex's shoulder. "Good luck."

The voices flit past Alex's consciousness like so much ambient noise, his brain registering no urgency. Gradually he comes awake in the darkness, feeling Luke's warm weight against him. Already, he knows it's Luke – knows his shape, his scent. "Hey," he whispers, his arm tightening around his lover for a hug. "Is it morning?"

"Mm-hm," Luke mumbles, coming awake again. He shifts even closer, careful not to touch Alex's leg. "Yeah. Sam and Antony went out for a supply run. Everyone else is still asleep." He presses a quick kiss to the corner of Alex's mouth. "How do you feel?"

Alex shifts experimentally and winces. "I think my leg's on fire," he answers, reaching down to gently touch the bandage on his thigh. "Did Ryan really have to stab me that many times?"

Luke chuckles. "He had to stitch you up, _twice_ ," he emphasizes. "Once inside, the muscle, and then again outside, closing everything up. You're lucky he knew what he was doing."

"What makes you think that?" Alex asks, slowly pushing himself up to sit back against the headboard. "Where was Antony? He should've done it. He's probably had, like, Special Operations medic training." He looks around, his vision adjusting as best it can to the dim room.

"Here." Luke sits up too and reaches for the matches, lighting the candle beside the bed. They'd probably be safe to take the quilts down from the windows now but any movement could be dangerous and even putting them up and down each day is probably more risk than they want to take. "And I don't know. Ryan was the one giving orders. Antony came up with the medications." He shrugs. "Does it matter? _Someone_ knew how to save you."

"No, it doesn't matter," Alex agrees, and smiles faintly, studying Luke's face in the flickering light. "Am I saved? Are we saved?"

"You're still here," Luke says, leaning in to give Alex a soft kiss on the mouth. "And we're safe for now."

Alex's smile widens, and he reaches out to slip his arm around Luke. "Did you stay with me last night?" It certainly appears so.

Luke smiles back. "They couldn't have dragged me away."

God, that makes Alex feel gooey inside. The blissful knowledge nearly blots out his pain entirely. "I'm a very lucky man."

"That makes two of us," Luke says, tears suddenly stinging his eyes as he realizes how close he came to losing Alex. "You should eat something. What do you want? There's soup, oatmeal, crackers..."

"Oh, my god. Food?" Alex's eyes light up. And that right there is an indication of increasing health: the fact that he's so immediately diverted by the thought of eating. "There's food? I want everything."

Luke laughs. "Do you want to come see or do you want me to bring you a tray?"

"No way, I am not fucking staying in bed," Alex insists. It hurts like hell when he moves, struggling to stand up. But even so, to just lie back and play sick – no. No way. "Wait. How many stairs?"

"None down here," Luke says. "And you don't need to go upstairs. It's only bedrooms and a bathroom that doesn't work." He stays close, offering Alex his shoulder. "The one down here is okay for washing up and using the toilet but don't drink the water, not without boiling it first."

Alex shuts his eyes briefly in a flash of gratitude. "No stairs," he mumbles. "Awesome." They get to the bedroom door and he looks down with a scowl at the gigantic blood-trimmed _nothing_ covering his bad thigh.. "What the fuck did Ryan do to my jeans? Shit. I don't have another pair of pants."

"He had to cut them open," Luke points out, opening the door nice and wide. "So he could sew you up. I'll patch them for you later." It's not like they're going to find replacements any time soon. Not in Alex's size.

He can't help a grumble, but Alex does manage to keep it under his breath. He's lucky. He knows. He recalls that much of his injury to know that. "Where's the washroom?"

"On the right." Luke gestures at the first door down the hall from the bedroom. "Do you want some help?"

"No." The answer is short, gruff. But when Luke releases him and lets Alex take his full weight on his own, Alex relents a smidge. "I'll leave the door open. Call you if I need you."

Luke nods. "Okay. I'll see what there is to eat." He'd taken a brief stock the night before but only in the time it took him to boil the water Ryan asked for.

The smell in the bathroom is bad, but it could certainly be worse. Alex leans heavily against the wall to prop himself up. Frowns at his reflection in the dusty mirror. Someone left a pot of water and a cup on the floor by the sink, along with a bar of soap. Keira, he'd guess, judging by the way she seemed to be on top of everything back at the warehouse. He washes up, then slowly limps down the hall to the kitchen. Grabbing the edge of the table, he carefully lowers himself into a chair. And that's it: he's exhausted.

"I've got soup and there's crackers," Luke says, dumping cans into pots and putting a box on the table. "There's also juice and water," he adds, putting a bottle of each in front of Alex. "Cases and cases of water." Thank goodness the previous inhabitants hadn't given a crap about being green.

"Okay." It's not that Alex is truly as disinterested as he might sound. More that Luke's voice is coming through like a vague echo, upstaged by a clashing dissonant chorus. "Are there any more painkillers?"

"Yeah, hold on." Luke disappears back into the bedroom and returns with a vial of pills. "Ryan said you could have two of these every four hours." He shakes the pills out into his hand and hands them to Alex, cracking open the bottle of water for him as well. "He said they'd kick in pretty quickly."

Ignoring the rumbling of his empty stomach, Alex gulps down the meds, slumping into his chair. He shuts his eyes and nearly drowses for a few minutes, before a sound rouses him once more. Blinking back the lull of fatigue, he looks up at Luke. "I didn't even ask. Are you okay?"

Luke stops stirring the soup and leans back against the counter. "I am," he nods. "I'm exhausted and starving but we're through that damn tunnel and you're getting better." He smiles at Alex. "I like these guys," he says softly. "Antony, Sam, Keira... they're good people. They could've just dumped our asses once we were through but they're still here and Sam and Antony went to find more meds for you."

Alex nods acknowledgment with a soft sigh. "Good. That's good." He glances around, gradually becoming more aware although in a cotton candy sort of way. "Where's Ryan?"

"Sam said he was still asleep." Luke divides the soup between two bowls, giving Alex the larger portion, and sets the bowls on the table. "Do you want me to go wake him?"

"Nah. I just... couldn't remember if you said where he was today." Alex swallows his first spoonful, and he couldn't care less that it burns all the way down. "Thank you," he murmurs after a few moments. "I'm not used to being taken care of like this."

Luke smiles. "You're welcome. I don't mind at all." He doesn't mention that he'd spent most of the last two years taking care of his partner. Some day, maybe, he'll share that with Alex, but not here and not now. "It's good to take the help when you need it." 

"Yeah, but– ah, Christ." Alex scrubs a hand over his face. "They're going to leave," he realizes, his mouth twisting into a frown. "Shit. I don't know if..." Cutting off the thought, he shakes his head and goes back to wolfing down his breakfast.

"Who's going to leave?" Luke's confused.

"Them. Sam and Antony and–" Alex shrugs. "I get it." _Shit_. Ryan too, maybe. And maybe Luke.

"I don't think they are," Luke says, setting his spoon down. "They wouldn't have stayed here with us if that was their plan. They could have already made it to the next town, they wouldn't be out finding more meds..." He touches his spoon, lining it up with his bowl. "I could be wrong, but I think we're a group – if we want to be one." And he does. He hates being on his own. Being in a group, even if it's just an illusion, _feels_ safer. But he'll go wherever Alex goes. He's already decided that.

Alex licks a last drop of gravy from his lips while he watches Luke. "What do you want?"

Luke takes a drink of water. He knows Alex wanted to make it back to his family but he can't imagine Sweden being any different than here. Overrun with zombies. "I want to be with you," he says finally. "But I'd like us to stay with them."

 _I want to be with you_. They're beautiful words, and they squeeze Alex's heart tight like a fist. He nods, color lightly staining his cheeks, and offers up a shy smile. "I guess I'll have to live."

Luke gives a soft laugh and smiles at Alex, reaching across the table to give his hand a squeeze. "Yes, you will," he says. "For me." Which at any other time might sound vaguely stalkerish or co-dependent but these days, they all need their reasons to survive and sometimes the will to _simply survive_ isn't enough.

When Ryan enters the kitchen and sees them sitting that way, he jerks back a step, feeling like he's intruding on a private moment. "Um, sorry," he offers, clearing his throat. "Didn't mean to interrupt, but... Alex, you're up. How do you feel?" Because social graces are one thing, sure, but the safety of his patient has to be paramount.

Alex tightens his grip on Luke's hand, unwilling to let him pull away just because Ryan stumbled in. "I feel... I mean, I'm up. I ate. Luke fed me." He meets his friend's eyes, squinting just a little. "You have two heads. No, two and-a-half."

Ryan raises an eyebrow at that, and looks to Luke in question even as he lays his fingers on Alex's throat to check his pulse.

"He had more meds in the night and this morning and he used the washroom and ate a bowl of soup and a bottle of juice," Luke says, leaning in closer, watching Ryan closely, worried he's missed something.

"Pain meds?" Ryan asks, leaning in to inspect Alex's eyes.

"The white ones," Alex confirms, holding up his fingers a half-inch apart. "They're delicious."

Ryan huffs a laugh, and crouches down to check the bandage. "He needs to keep taking the antibiotics I gave him last night," he tells Luke. "Plus I'm going to give you another one to start him on, all right?" Satisfied, he gets back to his feet. "And you? You get a few hours off in your yellow submarine. But then I'm putting you to work."

Luke nods, but the last part takes him by surprise. "Shouldn't he be resting?"

"Yeah. Sorry, I need to give you another job, too," Ryan tells him apologetically. "If you can check around the house and see what we've got in terms of food, weapons, supplies, then he can sit on his ass and write it all down. We'll be able to plan better if we have a reliable inventory."

"Are there weapons?" Alex asks, glancing around the kitchen curiously.

Ryan shrugs. "I reckon you two will find out."

Luke nods. That at least sounds a little better. "We were just talking," he says. "Do you know what their plans are? Has Sam or Antony said anything?"

"Um. Yeah." Ryan snags a bottle of water and cracks it open, leaning back against the counter so he can see them both. "They're heading for Scotland. They said we can go with, if we want to."

Propping his chin in his hand, Alex smothers a yawn and tries to pay attention. "We're already going that way. So yeah, why not?"

"Sam said they're thinking to stay in Scotland. He said there's an island off the grid the three of them have been planning on. Should be kind of self-sustaining, by the sound of it," Ryan explains. "If it's not destroyed already."

"It won't be," Keira says, yawning as she comes into the kitchen. "There was a family living on it until a year or two ago and there's no way anyone else got out there." She grabs a juice from the case and twists it open. "You'd have to be a master sailor to be able to handle the waters near the island. They had to be self-sufficient because half the time the supply boats couldn't even get out there."

"Where are you getting your boat?" Alex asks, feeling vaguely like it's a reasonable question. Responsible, yeah.

"I don't know," Keira says, downing half the bottle in a couple of chugs. "Kirkwall, I think. Antony's our details man. He's also our sailor." She gives them all a smile. "Where'd they go? Supply run?"

"Right. Medicine and such," Ryan confirms with a nod. "Do you want breakfast? I know there's oatmeal, soup..."

Keira makes a face. "I don't like breakfast," she says, digging through the pantry and coming up with a granola bar. "This'll do me." She smiles at Ryan this time – a downright mischievous smile. "Since you two were down here," nodding at Alex and Luke, "that must have been you and Sam last night."

Ryan blinks, surprised. "What?"

"What?" Alex echoes.

"Uh. S- sorry," Ryan stammers, feeling his cheeks flush hot as a bonfire. "I didn't– we didn't mean–" At least Keira doesn't strike him as particularly judgmental. "I'll be quiet."

"Not on my account, you shouldn't be," Keira says. "Somebody's gotta be enjoying themselves." She leans back against the counter. "Besides, Sam's a good guy. A _really_ good guy." Which makes them a pretty good match, she thinks, after seeing Ryan take care of Alex yesterday.

Luke looks at Alex. Sam and Ryan? Seriously? Huh. His radar must have been on the fritz with those two.

It's obvious there's _something_ going on, but it feels maddeningly outside Alex's reach. And it's damn frustrating to be aware that there's something he should know but his brain simply isn't up to it right now. So he turns to Luke and asks in a stage whisper, "Did she say Ryan fucked Sam?"

"I think so," Luke whispers back, glancing at Ryan and Keira. But then he can't help it. "Is that right?" he asks Ryan.

"No, I– It wasn't–" Ryan holds up his hands in protest, feeling weird talking about this behind Sam's back. "We slept together, yeah." He sticks his tongue out at Alex in a deliberately immature gesture. "Like you should be having all the fun."

Alex snickers in response and leans across the table to plant a smacking kiss on Luke's lips.

They'd agreed to keep things under wraps, but it seems like their group all knows anyway and Luke can't help but just beam at the kiss.

It suddenly hits Keira that everyone's paired off except her and Antony. Fuck. He's a good-looking guy and before Cal she would have jumped on him in a minute but he's never shown one bit of interest in her. For all she knows, he's fucking gay too. She sighs and shakes her head. "Just – try and be quiet," she says, giving them a half-hearted glare. "And find me a straight bloke or we won't be repopulating the world anytime soon."

Ryan raises an eyebrow, considering her words. "Do any of you... know anything about that?" he asks, looking at Keira and then at Luke. "Have you heard any rumors? Because yeah, we talk about repopulating, sure. But I'm wondering whether anyone actually knows whether babies are still being born. Healthy."

Keira pales at his words. "Why wouldn't they be?" she says, hands tightening around her juice bottle. "This is just something that affects the dead, isn't it?"

It doesn't take a genius to tell, but Ryan feels like an absolute idiot when he sees Keira's reaction. "Hey, I'm sorry," he tells her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "That was a stupid thing to say. I was running my mouth and I need to stop. Don't waste your time worrying, okay?"

"There was a woman in the town I was in," Luke volunteers, hoping to make things better. "She was already pregnant but she delivered fine."

"And the baby was okay?"

"Baby was perfect," Luke says, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. That part's not a lie.

Keira thinks about that for a moment then nods. She puts her hand over Ryan's and gives it a quick squeeze. Not much fazes her these days, but the idea of not being able to repopulate. Of getting to somewhere safe and it just being them until they all die out... "What's everyone doing today?" 

It seems that Ryan is to be forgiven, but he vows to be much more careful with his words in the future. "Luke and Alex are going to take inventory," he answers Keira. "Will you help me around the house, setting up defenses?"

"Sure." Keira nods. "Put me to work."


End file.
